


What's in a Name?

by Starshe11



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshe11/pseuds/Starshe11
Summary: “That’s what we have to do as Shields, and that’s the reason why we chose that name for you.” Clarus pulled his son in for a quick hug. “And if that idiot Tredd can’t understand, then nuts to him.” | Gladiolus Amicitia's Birthday 2018





	What's in a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Ages: Clarus - 37 y/o | Gladiolus - 5 y/o | Lady Amicitia - 35 y/o
> 
> Setting: Amicitia Residence | Pre-Game and Pre-Brotherhood
> 
> Assumptions/Headcanons: Lady Amicitia is a historian at the Citadel. | She is also named after a flower.

As Shield of the King, Clarus Amicitia was always on his guard against any threats to the Crown. Trained by his father since the tender age of seven, his battle sense and prowess was second to none in the entire kingdom.

 

But as a father?

“Dad!”

That blade was still quite dull.

 

“What’s the matter, Gladiolus?” Clarus’ eyes widened at the sight of the sobbing four year-old. It was one of his rare half-days from duty, something he thought would make his son jump for joy. “Not happy to see your old man?”

“He got called to the principal’s office today for beating up a classmate.”“ His wife, Emeria, sighed as she closed the door behind her. Shooting her husband a glare, she added, "This is why having him learn how to be a Shield this early on is a bad idea.”

 

“Not now, Emi…” Clarus hissed. Making his way over to Gladiolus, he crouched down and gave him an awkward pat on the back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, son.” The Shield asked, trying his best to imitate the way he heard Regis and Aulea soothe the two year-old prince. “Why did you beat that other kid up?”

“Tredd told me my name sucks.” The little boy sniffled, rubbing his eyes angrily. “Kept calling it ‘sissy’ and 'girly’.”

 

“Language, Gladio.” Emeria chided, her hard expression softening at the sight of tears welling up in her son’s eyes. Chancing a look at the clock, she let out a small gasp.

“Crap. I remember telling Sir Scientia I’d help him with the archives at three.” She quickly made her way to the door. Glancing back at her husband, she said, “I’m sure you have this under control, Clarus. I’ll be back at five.”

 

“Wait, Emi!” Clarus reached out a hand towards her as the door clicked shut. Scratching the back of his head, he muttered, “Now just who needs a language check…”

“Dad?” Gladiolus interrupted, not quite looking his father in the eye.

“Y-Yes, Gladio?” Clarus turned to face his son, unsure of what to do next. He usually left this sort of thing up to Emi…

“Was Tredd right?” Gladiolus’ voice, normally loud and brash, was nothing more than a whisper.

 

'Oh crap, how do I go about this?’ Clarus was panicking now. 'Gently like Regis? Stern like Cid with his grandkid? How?!’

“Is my name really that bad? Especially since I’m gonna be Shield and all…” Gladiolus looked on the verge of tears once more, the shine in his amber eyes breaking Clarus’ heart.

 

'Oh, to hell with them.’

 

“Gladio, listen to me.” Clarus gripped his son’s shoulders firmly. “First of all, Tredd is an asswipe. Second, your mother must never know I said that word in front of you, even if she DOES curse in front of you more than she should.”

“Which is not at all, right?” Gladiolus laughed, bringing a smile to Clarus’ face.

“Exactly, kid.” He ruffled the young boy’s hair, earning an indignant 'Hey!’ in return. “And third…do you even know what your name means? Or why your mother and I chose it for you?”

 

“Nope.” The young Amicitia popped the 'p’.

“Then follow me to the backyard.” Clarus grinned, taking Gladiolus’ hand.

 

—-XV—-

 

“Why are you showing me Mom’s flowerbed?” Gladiolus’ expression was a mix of confusion and horror. “We’re not supposed to be near here, right?”

“True, but let me deal with that later.” Clarus chuckled. “After all, her flowerbed has exactly what I want to show you.”

 

“Flowers?” The young boy had a cheeky expression on his face, one that soon disappeared as his father pinched his cheeks.

“No, bugs.” Clarus deadpanned. He then gestured to a particular batch of pink blooms, their petals shaped like blades. “Yes, flowers. Yours, specifically.”

 

“This is mine?” Gladiolus wrinkled his nose in disgust. “No wonder Tredd made fun of me.”

“Look, Gladio.” The Shield smiled, gently caressing the flowers. “Did you know that flowers, like names, have certain meanings behind them?”

 

“Nope.” Gladiolus shrugged. “What’s yours mean, Dad?”

“Mine means 'clear’ or 'bright’.” Clarus pointed to his temple. “Just like how my mind is supposed to be while protecting the King.”

“And Mom’s?” The young boy’s eyes shone with curiosity.

“Her name is based on a flower too.” Clarus moved over to a bunch of red blooms. “The Alstroemeria flower is one symbolizing prosperity, fortune, and friendship.”

 

“Is that why mine’s a flower?” Gladiolus huffed. “Just because she has a flower name? Why not give it to a sister or something…”

“If you want a sibling, then that’s ultimately up to your mother.” Clarus laughed. “But no, that’s not the full reason.”

“Then what is it?” Gladiolus was getting impatient.

 

“Take a look at this.” Clarus took a few steps back until he was a good distance away from the flowerbed. Then, seemingly out of thin air, he produced a double-edged sword unlike any of his other blades. Gladiolus noticed that this one was far simpler in design, but wickedly sharp.

“What do swords and flowers have to do with names, Dad?” Gladiolus was genuinely confused.

“I was just getting to that.” Clarus smiled. Brandishing the blade, he said, “Do you know what this particular sword is called?”

 

“Why would I?” Gladiolus rolled his eyes.

“That was called a gladius.” Clarus, ignoring the sarcasm in his son’s tone, willed the sword away.

 

“Like my name…” Gladiolus let out a small gasp.

“Exactly.” Clarus nodded. “The gladius is one of the most dangerous kinds of sword in the history of battle. Enemy soldiers always had a problem with them thanks to their sharpness, and how well our own could use them to take out their weak spots.”

“Whoa…” Gladiolus’ eyes were wide with wonder. Jumping around gleefully, he said, “Hah! That stupid Tredd definitely has to take it back now! 'Weak’, my ass…I’m a sword!”

“Damn right you are.” Clarus laughed. “But don’t get too excited. Remember the flowers?”

 

“Who cares about them?” Gladiolus pouted. “I’m a sword, not a flower kid.”

“Not yet.” Clarus moved to his son’s side. Patting his shoulder, he said, “But to become a good Shield, you have to be.”

“Huh?” The young boy tilted his head to the side. “But why?”

“These gladioli have a meaning too. One just as important as being sharp on the battlefield.” Clarus smiled.

 

“Then tell me already.” Gladiolus stomped his foot, being careful not to trample the blooms.

“Gladioli…they represent the following things.” Clarus put up three fingers. “Strength of character, honor, and conviction.”

Gently bumping his fist to his son’s chest, Clarus continued. “Listen well, son. A Shield with all might and no mettle isn’t much of a Shield at all.”

“Huh?” Gladiolus shot his father a confused stare. “What’s that mean?”

 

“My bad, let me explain it a bit simpler.” Clarus sighed, more at himself for forgetting he was speaking to a four year-old this time. “A Shield that’s all muscle and no brain or heart isn’t much good to his King. You need to be able to be a weapon and protector to Noctis, that’s true. But you need to be a friend and brother to him too, especially during particularly bad situations where he can’t think.”

“That’s what we have to do as Shields, and that’s the reason why we chose that name for you.” Clarus pulled his son in for a quick hug. “And if that idiot Tredd can’t understand, then nuts to him.”

 

“My thoughts exactly, Clarus. But do mind the language.”

 

“Emi!” Clarus nearly leapt a foot in the air at the sound of his wife’s voice. “Since when were you…?”

“Since the 'might and mettle’ bit.” Emeria explained. “Sir Scientia had to go home early. Ignis is down with the flu…poor kid.”

“But more importantly!” Lady Amicitia glared at the father-son pair, leaving them shaking in their shoes. “Away from the flowers, you two.”

 

“Y-YES!” Both Amicitia men squeaked out, scuttling away from the flowerbed as quickly as they could.

 

Just as Clarus reached the back door, however, Emeria called out to him.

“Something wrong, Emi?” Clarus felt his whole being tense up.

“I just wanted to say…you did an amazing job today.” His wife sent him a tired smile. “See? Told you you could handle this.”

 

“You’re right…” Clarus felt his heart swell with pride. “I guess I can.”

“But go near the flowers again, and you’re dead.” Emeria frowned, sending chills down Clarus’ spine.

 

“Yes’m!”


End file.
